A Wild Fright in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 7) Read Free Page B

side of his mouth.
    Wasn’t he just loaded with advice? Move over, Dear Abby. I’d bet he’d be a little more shy if he were the one face-to-face with a ghost whose eyes looked like white gumballs.
    “Hello, Prudence.” My voice started out rusty. “Is there something you want from me?”
    “Wanda needs you,” she said, only her lips didn’t move. Instead, her voice had come from the back seat sounding more garbled and scratchy than usual.
    I shot a surprised look at Harvey.
    One of his hands was covering his mouth. His eyes were as wide as silver dollars.
    “Did that come from you?” I asked.
    He nodded so hard his earlobes wobbled.
    Frowning at this new take on Prudence’s usual ventriloquist act, I focused back on my ghost passenger. “Why does Wanda Carhart need me?”
    “A cloaked stranger visited the house last night.” Prudence’s voice was muffled thanks to Harvey’s hands covering his lips. “A hunter searching for a treasure believed to be in Wanda’s possession.”
    Wanda’s treasure? Did Prudence mean the money willed to Wanda from her aunt? Had someone intended to rob her but showed up one house sale too late?
    Tucking my cold hands into my armpits, I tried to stop trembling. Prudence’s phantom-like presence a mere arm’s reach away from me was as unsettling as the idea of someone sneaking around the Carhart house in the dark.
    I glanced at Harvey again. Both of his hands now blocked his mouth from view, reminding me of the speak-no-evil monkey.
    “Who came to the house?” I asked, not sure if I should look at Prudence or Harvey when I spoke.
    Harvey won my attention. He was a lot less creepy looking than a dead woman with a bloody throat.
    “An assassin.” I watched as Harvey fought to control the muscles of his face and lost as Prudence continued to use his mouth and vocal chords. “Wanda must return the missing pearl.”
    “A pearl?” From a pearl necklace her aunt had left her? Was that the treasure? Or was Prudence once again being metaphorical?
    “The assassin made no sound,” the ghost continued, ignoring my question. “But its foul stench spoke the truth.”
    What truth? I sighed in frustration. “Prudence, stop being so damned cryptic. What did the assassin look like?”
    Harvey gave up fighting her and lowered his hands. He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at the ceiling as she spoke through him. “One of the Others.”
    At the word Others , my stomach fluttered.
    “YOU MUST GO TO WANDA NOW!” The sudden intensity in her voice made Harvey flinch in surprise.
    I let out a surprised squeak.
    When I turned back to the dead woman in my passenger seat my limbs tingled with adrenaline. “I need more information, Prudence.”
    The ghost leaned toward me, so close that I could see the air swirling on her pale cheeks, blurring all fine lines. She looked so real, yet vapory at the same time. For a split-second I thought I smelled the metallic scent of blood on her dress. Fighting the urge to recoil, I held her white-eyed stare.
    “ Scharfrichter .” Harvey spoke the German name for executioner from the back seat.
    The ghost in my face reached her finger toward my chest. I held still. My heartbeat revved as she came nearer. Would I be able to feel her touch?
    Her finger hesitated over my sternum. “Your job is to protect. Not question.”
    “How can I protect when I don’t understand?”
    I looked down, watching my chest rise and fall quickly.
    “Do as I say!” She thrust her whole hand inside of me.
    Heat seared my lungs in a flash, burning so hot my eyes watered. Her ghostly face lunged toward mine, her mouth gaping wide and dark as it came at me.
    I screamed and retreated back.
    Then in a blink she was gone, along with her burning touch.
    Clutching my chest, I turned to Harvey. “What should I do?”
    He made a weird croaking sound, then cleared his throat and tried again. “Change your underwear.” His tone was higher than